Sound of Heartache ( Sound of Book 2)

by Roy, Chelsea

  “Maybe just a little,” she admitted. Brent appreciated her lack of coyness.

  “Dad, it’s like a flashing neon sign. Mom likes you!” Brenna sang as she passed by with her pajamas bundled in her arms by kissing each of them on the cheek. “Kiss and make up already!” She bossed, before closing herself in the bathroom.

  A slight flush tinted Aimee’s perfect cheekbones before she turned around and opened her case. Brent moved a little closer to Aimee, hoping Brenna hadn’t embarrassed her too much.

  “I don’t mind, you know.” He said lightly.

  “Don’t mind what?” Aimee began to root through her suitcase until she pulled something in a bright teal out.

  “The flirting. I like it. I probably shouldn’t, but I do.” Brent knew he had to play things honest with Aimee. The time for subtlety was long past.

  “I like doing it. I probably shouldn’t, but I do,” Aimee confessed. She turned around and held Brent’s gaze. “It feels good. Real.”

  “What else do you like?” he felt compelled to ask.

  “Doing things that shock and surprise you,” Aimee whispered. Brent’s eyebrow shot up and he could feel his unruly cock harden in his pants. The damn thing was further proof he was still a teenager residing within a man’s body when it came to Aimee.

  “And what would surprise me?” He rasped out. His tongue came out to moisten lips that had gone dry and he watched as Aimee tracked the movement. His eyes dropped to her breasts and he could see her nipples beaded against her shirt. The atmosphere was electric.

  “This,” she said, and before he could utter a word, she swiftly drew her thin long-sleeved shirt over her head. Her bra was a sheer black thing and incredibly lacy and Brent audibly groaned at the sight. Breasts that were definitely larger than he remember spilled over the top of the cups. While he watched in astonishment, Aimee unbuttoned her chinos and pushed them off her hips. They slid soundlessly to the floor and she kicked them away, standing before him in her sexy as fuck black bra and matching panties.

  “You’re trying to kill me,” he stated. All available blood had rushed southward and filled out his dick until the damn thing was trying to break free from his slacks. Ignoring his arousal, his eyes rapidly took in every inch of her. She was still so beautiful it took his breath away. He dropped to his knees and nudged her panties down to the line of her pubic hair. She inhaled sharply, her stomach trembling under his hands, but allowed his perusal.

  “They faded but they’re still there,” she told him quietly. Brent appreciated that she knew exactly what he was looking for. He ran the backs of his fingers over the super-soft skin of her lower stomach where he remembered several stretch marks blooming at the end of her pregnancy. She had despaired over them while he had cherished each one. To him, they were marks of her love for him and he found nothing sexier.

  “I know you probably still hate them, but I’m glad to see them,” he said gruffly. She shook her head, her incredible dark hair swaying around her body.

  “I don’t hate them anymore. They remind me daily of how much you loved me.” She said simply. He gripped her hips in his hands, feeling the bones press into his palms. Although she was still very slender, she had lost the sharp angles of youth and was very much a woman. So many changes he’d missed. He pressed a kiss to her belly button and groaned darkly. This close to her and he could smell her arousal.

  “I don’t want to offend you, and please don’t misconstrue this…” Brent hesitated while he sat there on his knees before her. He looked up her body again and into her eyes. She was looking at him patiently with a healthy dose of desire thrown in. He didn’t know why this small detail mattered so much, but strangely it did. He rose to his feet and his gaze fell to her breasts. He slowly moved his hands up the curve of Aimee’s back until he reached the clasp of her bra. He tugged gently and it unhooked. The bra came down and off and his gaze caressed Aimee’s perfect breasts. They, too, had several silvery stretch marks but that wasn’t what had captured his gaze.

  “You want to know why, right?” She asked him, hesitantly.

  “God, yes. Your breasts were perfect,” he sighed. He stared down at the perfection before him. These were different, but no less perfect because they were hers. Her chest rose and fell with a deep exhale, making his dick jerk in his pants. To his dismay, she slowly worked the teal scrap of material she held in her hands over her head and it fell down her body with a whisper of a sound. It was some sort of stretchy soft material that hit mid-thigh and hid nothing.

  “After Brenna nursed there was just nothing left. You know I’d never had really large breasts before anyway and then it just seemed like they were gone.” Aimee sounded very matter of fact. Brent guessed for her, as a doctor, it was just that simple. A problem had occurred, Aimee applied logic, and the problem was solved.

  “You would have still looked beautiful to me,” he told her. He wanted her to understand he didn’t need someone who was unflawed. To him, imperfections added to the beauty of the person.

  “But I didn’t feel beautiful to me. What I saw reflected on the outside was not the woman I felt like on the inside.” Aimee smiled briefly. “A lot of moms have guilt for wanting to feel beautiful and sexy. It has nothing to do with being beautiful or sexy. It’s all about how we feel. And sometimes, after we’ve been sucked dry and stretched out we just don’t feel sexy anymore. This helped me in ways I can’t even describe.”

  “Do you do talks about this?” Brent asked, curious. She seemed really passionate about the subject and when Aimee felt deeply about something, she usually didn’t let it go. He heard the shower shut off and realized he and Aimee were still standing at the foot of her bed. He grabbed her arm gently and led her through the connecting door into the large suite.

  “I belong to several different mom groups. A couple are through social media and one or two is run through my office. I speak occasionally. I think it helps other moms that I’m a pediatrician too. I run into a lot of moms who are frustrated with their appearance and they become depressed over what they see as a selfish desire. I try to help where I can because I get it. I’m a mom too. It’s hard juggling everything at once while still trying to feel sexy for your partner.”

  Aimee settled herself in one of the chairs and Brent sprawled on the couch. He frowned at her last comment. He hated like hell that she’d been feeling sexy for someone else besides him. Damn it. He swore under his breath. If only he hadn’t lost his shit and gotten into drugs. If only Aimee had never seen him in Portland with those women. If fucking only so many years hadn’t been wasted.

  “I hate this,” He admitted. He straightened from his slouch. “I keep trying to wrap my mind around it and I keep hitting walls that I feel like I can’t climb over.” He knew it was hypocritical in the extreme, but knowing she’d been with another man absolutely gutted him. “I don’t want to know about you appealing to another man.”

  “If I can manage to physically watch you with multiple women, surely you can move past an imagined thought!” Aimee was exasperated with him and rightfully so. He threw his hands up in the air.

  “Trust me!” He growled. “I know it isn’t anywhere near logical!”

  “If these walls weren’t so hard for you to get over, I guess it would mean that you don’t care anymore, right?” Aimee reasoned. Brent grunted, frustrated with his own illogical though processes.

  “Baby, it’s not a matter of not caring. I know how I feel about you. It’s being able to move forward without carrying a shit-ton of baggage with me that I’m having a hard time with.” He glanced over at Aimee and felt sucker punched to see tears standing in her eyes.

  “I feel like we keep running into this same issue. We’re able to connect and flirt when we text. We do great on the phone. But once we see each other, things fall apart. If you haven’t gotten past it yet, do you think you’ll ever be able to?” She asked him haltingly. He didn’t want to answer her honestly but he knew he owed it to her to do nothing less.r />
  “I’m really, really worried I won’t.” He admitted to her. “Deep down I wonder to myself if maybe you’d tried harder or made different choices, our lives would have ended up so differently. I wouldn’t have been cheated out of ten years of my daughter’s life. I want to forgive you. I tell myself I forgive you. But then I realize I don’t think I really have.” Aimee stood up quickly. Brent stood as well. This conversation was going to hell in a handbasket and he only had himself to blame.

  “Look. Why don’t I send Brenna in here tonight? Or you can sleep in my room with her? You guys should really get some one-on-one time, don’t you think?” Aimee’s words rushed out, trembling and wavy. Clearly she was anxious to end the conversation and beat a hasty retreat. Brent sighed wearily, wishing he hadn’t put a strain on the evening.

  “Why don’t you have Brenna come in here? We’ll order her that banana split and she and I can watch a movie. That’ll give you some alone time.” Brent made the offer knowing Aimee probably needed some time to compose herself after their conversation. His chest ached with the complexity of their relationship. He wished everything could just be simple for once.

  “That sounds great, thanks.” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the ground, and all but ran out of the suite and back into her room. Brent dropped on the couch. Way to fuck up the evening, Pearson, he thought to himself.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  After a quick talk with Brenna and promising to see her in the morning, Aimee found herself alone in the luxurious room. She had closed the door to Brent’s adjoining suite but left it unlocked. Her heart was pumping wildly in her chest and she felt like screaming. Brent was right. There were so many other paths she could have chosen. So many mistakes she made along the way. And now it looked like he might never get past them. Aimee felt like every single thing she’d ever wanted was washing down the drain because of choices she couldn’t change.

  Emotionally lost and physically trembling, she thumbed open the contacts app on her phone. Eric had keyed in his number at the restaurant and urged her to call him whenever she felt like it. It was stupid of her to jump so quickly back into old patterns, but she’d always turned to him when she had relationship issues with Brent. Eric always had a practical solution and he was adept at solving her problems when she wasn’t. She quickly fired him off a text, the words blurring on the screen as tears kept filling her eyes.

  “You in your room?” She sent.

  “Yup, no groupies tonight. ;-)” Came back. Aimee felt too wretched to respond like she normally would.

  “You up for company?” She sent back. Praying he said yes. Unsure of what she would do if he said no.

  “Figured you’d be with Brent and Brenna???”

  “No.”

  “I’m on the 8th floor. Come down. I’ll wait for you outside the elevator.” Aimee exhaled noisily, relieved she could get out of her room.

  She threw on the robe that matched her nightie and some flip flops. Peeking into Brent’s room, there was no sign of him and Brenna. They’d probably already gone to make a nest in the suite’s bedroom so they could get comfy and watch a movie. Making memories that Aimee was again being excluded from. She shut the door softly. Making sure to grab the room key, she exited the suite and jogged to the elevator. As she rode down one floor she couldn’t believe Eric was rescuing her yet again. She didn’t know how she had survived the past ten years without him.

  When the elevator door slid open, Eric’s handsome face was waiting there for her as he’d promised. He immediately drew her into the shelter of his arms and led her down the hallway toward his room. She sniffled softly and his arms tightened. She doubted he’d missed the tear tracks when she’d stepped off the elevator. She noticed his hand shook slightly as he swiped the key card for the room over the door and she felt bad for dumping her emotional garbage on him. She couldn’t seem to help herself. When the door finally closed behind her and she was in the quiet comfort of his small suite she turned and buried her face into his lean chest. The sound of his heart thudding against her ear was comforting and reassuring. He hadn’t changed out of his flannel and it was soft against her cheek.

  “What happened Aimee-girl?” Eric asked her gently. She sniffled again and burrowed closer. She wasn’t sure how Eric didn’t think she was the worst person ever for what she’d done to Brent. She didn’t understand it at all, but she appreciated it nonetheless. Eric’s hand rubbed up and down Aimee’s back in broad sweeps.

  “Other than the fact that I’m the worst person alive?” She muttered. Eric’s hand paused briefly before resuming the reassuring stroking.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” he said bluntly. “You’re raising an amazing daughter. You’re a pediatrician before thirty for God’s sake. You had a shitty start at adulthood and you did the best you could with what you had.”

  “Why doesn’t Brent see it that way?” Aimee wailed softly. She turned out of Eric’s arms and paced over to an amazing view of the city. She was glad Eric had kept the curtains open.

  “I can’t speak for Brent. But I know that if I had someone as amazing as you trying to make things work, I’d jump right on it.” Eric’s voice had an odd note to it and Aimee swung to face him. All playfulness was gone, and in place stood a man who appeared to have a good grasp on what he wanted in life.

  “Have you met someone?” She asked, curiously. Eric had always been perpetually single. He went home with many women but none of them ever seemed to stick. From what she’d read in the tabloids, his patterns hadn’t changed any. If anyone deserved to meet the right woman, it was Eric.

  “Not exactly,” he hedged. It was obviously uncomfortable territory for him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Eric, that’s hardly fair. You know so much about the mess of my life. It might help me feel better if you shared a little of your own,” she said coaxingly. Aimee was relatively sure she could come up with some reasonable advice for him. She was only an idiot around Brent. Most of the time she actually made sound decisions.

  “Maybe we’ll talk about me later. In the meantime, what did Brent say tonight that has you so upset?” Listening to Eric’s deep voice rumble through his chest was relaxing and she leaned even deeper into his embrace. The fact that he was here with her right now when he could be anywhere else and was trying to help her solve her problems showed the measure of how good a man he was.

  “I love you, you know.” She blurted out. Eric had never done anything other than support her. He was her champion. If she could have picked an older brother out of anyone in the entire universe, it would’ve been him. “I missed your friendship so much after I left.”

  “I saw you in Portland, you know.” Eric’s words shocked Aimee and were not what she was expecting him to say. She pulled out of the warm comfort of his arms and stumbled over to the couch. Her knees were suddenly shaky and she sank down. Her trembling hand swept through her hair and she looked up at Eric with tears in her eyes.

  “When did you see me?” She asked him, barely able to get the words out. Had Eric seen her in the crowd? Or had Eric seen her in the hotel before she went into Brent’s room? Had he seen her a mess while she was leaving and not stopped her? She saw him fall into the seat across from her, his hands held out toward her. She shrank back against the cushions. “When?” She demanded of him.

  “Just before you went into his room. And just after.” Eric’s quiet, broken admission knocked the breath out of Aimee. Her hand pressed in on her chest and she struggled to breathe. She never would have expected this from him, ever.

  “Why?” She croaked. “You had to have known what I’d see!” Was it possible Eric hadn’t known what Aimee was in for? From what Brent had said, his modus operandi by the time he’d hit Portland was coke and women so it didn’t seem likely Eric wouldn’t have known. Eric’s shoulders dropped and he buried his face in his hands. “Eric?” She begged. “Tell me w
hy you would do that to me?” She was struggling to understand why he would let her be hurt so terribly.

  “I…” She watched as he struggled to find something to say but could come up with nothing. Aimee shot to her feet, heartbroken. She never thought Eric would betray her like this, ever. This night was turning out to be the worst one she could ever remember having. She felt unwanted by the man she loved and betrayed by the man she had called friend.

  “I thought you were my friend!” She accused bitterly. “But a friend wouldn’t let someone see the love of their life fucking multiple women!” Her voice rose. She began to back away from him.

  “God, Aimee…” Eric leapt to his feet. “I never meant to tell you but I can’t hide things from you. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

  “Tell. Me. Why!” Aimee’s hands clenched at her sides. Eric dropped to his knees at her feet and looked up at her. His hazel eyes were bright with tears but Aimee was unmoved.

  “I loved you!” He told her earnestly, his deep voice catching on a sob.

  “I loved you too! Which is why I don’t understand how you could let me see that!” Aimee’s eyes filled with tears, too. She didn’t jerk away as Eric cautiously took her hands in his.

  “No, Aimee,” he corrected brokenly. “I loved you. And for once in my life, that night I was selfish. I wanted you to see Brent, to know what he’d become.” A stray tear worked its way down Eric’s cheek, past the nose ring, and dripped off his strong chin. Aimee shook her head, confused.

  “I don’t understand,” she told him numbly. But she was beginning to be afraid that maybe she did.

  “When you lived with us, it just happened. I couldn’t help it.” Another tear slid down. “I never said or did anything that wasn’t in support of you guys, though,” Eric defended himself. “You have to know that. I always helped you guys. Portland was the only time.”

  “Portland was not the time to choose to make a stand,” Aimee muttered. “But what do you mean you couldn’t help it when I lived with you?” She asked him. She needed to make absolutely sure they were on the same page and if Eric was saying what she thought, she didn’t know what she’d do.